We've arrived at Week 9, and our first thematic week. Maybe we should plan on doing one every couple months, which will put us on pace for Week 17. Should we make a gentle-person's agreement to plan for another thematic week then (doesn't matter to me, as we say in Indiana, "I don't have a dog in that fight")? This week our theme is: Covers that are better than the original songs.
There are so many great choices this week. Bob, who clearly lacks a moral compass (or a calculator) went a little crazy, but he picked the theme so he gets a papal dispensation (plus, it's hard to argue with any of those choices).
Oh, and I just wanted to add that we're over two months into this and we've never had any song picked twice in the same week. Granted, there are millions of songs, but I don't think our musical tastes are that worldly different and I thought one week there might have been an overlaps. As we've discussed, it is still completely permissible to write a commentary on a song that has already been celebrated. By definition each one of our responses would be different.
As always, if I've missed your email give me a nudge, and if anyone wants to include a song just send it my way and I'll update the webpage.
Various artists
So completely obvious, I know.
When the original artist hears the cover and says
"that song isn't mine anymore...", that's about as clear as you can
get.
Dave Mills was almost right in his beautifully written post about Johnny Cash's "Hurt." The problem though is that "Hurt" was a good song way before the Man in Black got his hands on it and this song wasn't.
Ryan Adams, Blank Space
Instead,
listen to this version of Elton John’s “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road” by Sara
Bareilles. Beyond the obvious—a female taking on a man’s song and
reinterpreting it so as to totally own it as her own—this version made me hear
the lyrics in a completely new way. I listen to it again and again
because it makes me FEEL SOMETHING, which the original Elton John version never
inspired. Equally important, it caught the attention of my
18-year-old daughter Maria, who pays attention to music in the same ways I
assume we all did when we her age. She is the one who suggested it, and her
insights must be important, even if we don’t know for sure why.
Miles Davis, Concierto de Aranjuez
Now, I know that you were all expecting me to choose Neil Young's cover of Clementine from his Americana album, which would be a noble choice because it fulfills what I would consider a fundamental rule of a great cover: it's so good, so unique and knowing, that you think that it was written by the covering band; in this case, it's seems like Clementine was designed for Crazy Horse (thrash and Drive-By Truckers level warped - who knew that song was so dark?).
However, I'm going to pick Davis' cover of Concierto de Aranjuez from the seminal album Sketches of Spain. There has been so much written about Sketches of Spain that I don't think I could add anything even remotely insightful, so I will simply point out that it was recorded within a year of Kind of Blue. Davis, at the height of his protean genius, quickly and effortlessly moved from recording the definitive jazz album of all time to a completely different but equally innovative and brilliant album (although my students don't agree with my view that it marks the high point of western civilization; certainly my birth between the release of the two albums put a damper on things). Davis and Gil Evans (his close friend and collaborator) wanted to record a "Spanish record," and in the process created a fusion of jazz, classical and world music. This piece, a re-envisioning of the adagio section of Joaquin Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez, opens up the album (and definitely give a listen to the original, also amazing). I can't even imagine what people thought when they played the album for the first time, especially coming hard on the heels of albums such as Kind of Blue, Porgy and Bess, and Birth of the Cool. Davis plays trumpet and flugelhorn. He felt that the melody was so strong that "the softer you play it the stronger it gets." Required.
There are so many great choices this week. Bob, who clearly lacks a moral compass (or a calculator) went a little crazy, but he picked the theme so he gets a papal dispensation (plus, it's hard to argue with any of those choices).
Oh, and I just wanted to add that we're over two months into this and we've never had any song picked twice in the same week. Granted, there are millions of songs, but I don't think our musical tastes are that worldly different and I thought one week there might have been an overlaps. As we've discussed, it is still completely permissible to write a commentary on a song that has already been celebrated. By definition each one of our responses would be different.
As always, if I've missed your email give me a nudge, and if anyone wants to include a song just send it my way and I'll update the webpage.
Bob Craigmile
Various artists
Various albums.
Los Lobos, Politician
Jesus Christ! This fucking song! Any time you
can beat Cream at their own game, you’re doing something. The intro is a
little riff that seems like a quick sound check, then boom the
elephantine lick (that Cream actually wrote) kicks in, and THEN he fucking adds
to it with a little bit of screeching work above the 12th fret and then back to
the lick. The later guitar solo, probably by David Hidalgo, makes the hair on
my neck stand up. Damn.
Ryan Adams, Wonderwall
Even Noell Gallagher admits it’s better. So spare
and spacy.
Ryan Adams, Times Like These
Didn’t think it would be possible but he did it. I
really like Foo Fighters and Dave Grohl and this is a great song by them.
But RA just completely killed it. He has such a good and versatile
voice it’s kind of amazing to listen to the variety of songs he sings.
Dwight Yoakam and Flaco Jimenez, Carmelita
Dwight was born to sing this song. Not even Linda
Ronstadt can beat this one. It proves a country song can come from anyone
and be about anything when done right.
Los Lobos, Bertha
I used to be of the opinion that The Grateful Dead were
awful, until I actually listened to their songs. Maybe it was the
tie dye, maybe it was the patchouli. Anyway, this song has such a playful
feel in the Lobos’ hands it’s just incredible. It’s hard to imagine
knowing, much less loving/hating someone named Bertha these days.
Eventually I heard the tone of Garcia’s guitar correctly. The
movie about them in 1974 is incredible too. But this cover by LL is where
I first heard this song and it’s a great one.
Jimi Hendrix, All Along the Watchtower
Dave Mills
When I saw the announcement for this week's theme, I knew
instantly, with Scudderian Certainty, what the right answer was. This is to say
that all right-thinking individuals should agree with me that the best example
of a cover that is better than the original is Johnny Cash's version of Nine
Inch Nails' "Hurt." Cash's reworking of the NIN
song powerfully demonstrates the difference age, experience, and
context can make.
The original was recorded by Trent Reznor (the primary
creative force and sole constant band member of NIN) when he was in his late
20's. I discovered NIN around 1990, the year after they released their first
full-length album, Pretty Hate Machine. That album, but especially
its most famous track, "Head Like a Hole," was my anthem during my
junior year of college. Having just dropped out of an engineering program and
the Air Force ROTC in order to study philosophy (much to my parents' concern),
Reznor's music fit with my angsty, rage-filled sense that, while I had no idea
what I would now do with my life, it was better than serving "god
money." "Hurt" is a quieter track from NIN's third album, The
Downward Spiral. But, quiet though it is, in comparison to other tracks, it
still lashes out at the world (and the self) and still is suffused with a
slightly creepy and menacing industrial aesthetic. The lyrics convey an
isolated sense of pain, the feeling that no one understands one, the sense that
whatever one attempts, one will just cause more pain
and misunderstanding for all involved. Bottom line: the original is the
music of a young man, a man who, like myself as a junior in college,
hadn't really lived yet, but is full of insecurities about what life will hold.
The cover was recorded by Johnny Cash at the age of 70,
one year before his death. Cash's age and experience totally transform Reznor's
lyrics, moving them from the space of 20-something angst to the space of the
sadness and remorse that can only be expressed by one who has truly lived,
truly made mistakes, truly suffered and caused loss. Consider the line
"Everyone I know goes away in the end." Said by a young man in his
20's, the line speaks to failed friendships and romances. Said by a 70-year-old
man, the line speaks not only to this but also to the loss even of those with
whom our relationships have not failed. But don't just listen to Cash's song.
The music video is a must-see. It contains footage from Cash's own life, his
relationship with June Carter, his musical career, his awards, his
religion, etc. All of this footage is brilliantly arranged in the form of
a vanitas painting, a tradition of still-life painting in
Holland that was intended to remind its viewers of the brevity of life, the
immanence of death, and the foolishness of wasting life pursuing wealth, fame,
pleasure, beauty, etc. The paintings were filled with images of things like
fresh fish and meat, cut fruit, arranged flowers, lighted candles, etc. Each is
beautiful in its own right, but each is also already in the process of decay.
In a very short time, the fish and meat will stink, the fruit will rot, the
flowers will die, the candle will burn out. Cash transforms "Hurt"
into a self-reflective vanitas of his own life. Powerful
stuff. While I still, thankfully, have a while to go before I'm Cash's age when
he recorded this song, the years since my college NIN days have made Cash's
version of this song feel much more meaningful and authentic than Reznor's
original, though that felt meaningful and authentic at the time.
Reznor himself was so moved by Cash's version that he
said this: "I pop the video in, and wow... Tears welling, silence,
goose-bumps... Wow. [I felt like] I just lost my girlfriend, because that song
isn't mine anymore... It really made me think about how powerful music is as a
medium and art form. I wrote some words and music in my bedroom as a way of
staying sane, about a bleak and desperate place I was in, totally isolated and
alone. [Somehow] that winds up reinterpreted by a music legend from a radically
different era/genre and still retains sincerity and meaning — different, but
every bit as pure."
Mike Kelly
Dave Mills was almost right in his beautifully written post about Johnny Cash's "Hurt." The problem though is that "Hurt" was a good song way before the Man in Black got his hands on it and this song wasn't.
Ryan Adams, Blank Space
Before Ryan Adams covered it, Blank Space was the anthem of fleeting romances that pop up (phrasing) at the end of 9th grade and fizzle out by the 4th of July. This trite pop cultural bon bon was part spoof of T-Swift's mediated love life and part a slightly humorous shot across the bow to potential suitors. The video includes some subtly smart homages to Tiger Woods and other tabloid cover boys. But here's the striking thing- I spent all last summer driving my kids around and this song came on 95 XXX in Burlington nearly every time I was in the car and the only time I thought twice about this song was when I was wondering exactly what a "lonely Starbucks lover" was. But then last fall, the RA version dropped on a Friday morning and I woke my entire crew up with an ejaculation (I know, phrasing) of HOLY SHIT and played this song on repeat through breakfast.
This cover is better than its original because RA was able to imagine a teenybopper hit for what it was actually saying and (unlike me) recognize it for the genius hidden behind the auto tune and the repeated spins on pop radio. Instead of being a soundtrack for the immature junior high hookups, instead it served as a gentle warning for the the people who really do have "a long list of ex-lovers" and know themselves well enough to understand what the other person is getting into at the onset of a hookup. It's the song you listen to on Sunday night after she sticks around your house for most of the day after a date and you start thinking to yourself, "well, this is starting to get fun, but she has no idea....".
Because in the Ryan Adams song, the couple isn't "young and reckless." They aren't young, instead, they're "so goddamn reckless" but are still capable of holding out for mix of the risk, anticipation and the giving yourself over to someone else that makes the start of a relationship a kaleidoscope of emotion that's every bit as fun as pop hit with the windows down right after your 16th birthday.
Miranda Tavares
Counting
Crows, Friend of the Devil
Pretty
sure I am committing blasphemy here, but I’ve never been a Grateful Dead fan.
Yes, there’s good music there, but I don’t really dig the jam band sound
for which they’re known, and I totally can’t get passed Jerry’s high, reedy
vocals (which is also why I’ve never liked Neil Young; hey, if I’m going to get
kicked off the blog, might as well do it in one fell swoop ;) ). Friend
of the Devil, as originally recorded by the Dead, is pretty fast-paced and
up-beat, with some admittedly good guitar picking. The Dead started slowing the
song down in live performances, but none that I’ve listened to comes close to
the entirely new face Counting Crows put on the song. The mournful vocals (to
be fair, Adam Durtiz pretty much only does mournful) are absolutely perfect for
the loneliness inherent in the lyrics. The richness of the guitar and piano
adds some depth and feeling sorely missing from the original version.
I was torn between choosing the Counting Crows version or the Lyle Lovett version. Lovett’s version is much more stripped down, a couple guitars and a cello, which really highlights the loneliness (the backing vocals in the Counting Crows version detracts from that, I think). But Lovett lacks the intensity Durtiz displays. In Lovett’s version I hear too little feeling, too much acceptance of his lot in life, as though he has come out through the other side already and is stripped bare. In the Dead version I hear…jauntiness, I guess, which causes a disconcerting, overly-contrasting discord in relation to the lyrics. In the Counting Crows version, in each word, I can hear the both the wild-eyed desperation and impending resignation that a man on the run must be feeling.
I was torn between choosing the Counting Crows version or the Lyle Lovett version. Lovett’s version is much more stripped down, a couple guitars and a cello, which really highlights the loneliness (the backing vocals in the Counting Crows version detracts from that, I think). But Lovett lacks the intensity Durtiz displays. In Lovett’s version I hear too little feeling, too much acceptance of his lot in life, as though he has come out through the other side already and is stripped bare. In the Dead version I hear…jauntiness, I guess, which causes a disconcerting, overly-contrasting discord in relation to the lyrics. In the Counting Crows version, in each word, I can hear the both the wild-eyed desperation and impending resignation that a man on the run must be feeling.
Nate Bell
Led Zepplin,
When the Levee Breaks
Many of
you may have noticed by now that I really like the old bluesy styles, and often
like old folk and blues songs. You all being studious music buffs know
very well that Led Zepplin stole a LOT of their source material from old blues
songs to avoid any copyright issues and make boatloads of money.
Nevertheless.
When the Levee Breaks is a fairly old blues song about the great Mississippi flood of 1927 and recorded originally in 1929. I love the Mississippi blues style, and the original is a typical mournal dirge with slide guitar and a plaintive lament.
Led Zepplin takes this basis and adds their typical overwrought guitar, but keeps the heavy, low beat-based minor tone of the original, setting the stage for a feeling of heaving, distraught pathos. Completely revolutionary at the time was their use of a specially recorded drum track which was mixed and compressed through 2 channels to bring out the echo they had originally created by having Bonham play the drums in a stairwell. They then took Plant’s harmonica and mixed his harmonica echo in reverse, so that the echo came ahead of the sound. The combined result is a ghostly, echoing, and still can nearly raise the hair on the back of one’s neck. The ghostly, haunted quality is almost as though the spirits of those drowned in the ‘27 waters has risen to give their lament to the instruments. The slight distortion and fuzz only add to the surreal sound of the entire track--as if the whole performance was live recorded on a phantom steamboat that had arisen from the wreck on the mighty Mississip. This is also one instance where the higher, reedy vocals (I generally dislike) only add to the over all plaintive and soulful quality of the song, rather than a more usual gravelly rendering so common with a Delta Blues tune. It’s a masterful work of art that takes the original far beyond what was possible, or even imagined at the time. I would only hope the bluesmen of the early 30s would approve of phantasmagoric rendition.
When the Levee Breaks is a fairly old blues song about the great Mississippi flood of 1927 and recorded originally in 1929. I love the Mississippi blues style, and the original is a typical mournal dirge with slide guitar and a plaintive lament.
Led Zepplin takes this basis and adds their typical overwrought guitar, but keeps the heavy, low beat-based minor tone of the original, setting the stage for a feeling of heaving, distraught pathos. Completely revolutionary at the time was their use of a specially recorded drum track which was mixed and compressed through 2 channels to bring out the echo they had originally created by having Bonham play the drums in a stairwell. They then took Plant’s harmonica and mixed his harmonica echo in reverse, so that the echo came ahead of the sound. The combined result is a ghostly, echoing, and still can nearly raise the hair on the back of one’s neck. The ghostly, haunted quality is almost as though the spirits of those drowned in the ‘27 waters has risen to give their lament to the instruments. The slight distortion and fuzz only add to the surreal sound of the entire track--as if the whole performance was live recorded on a phantom steamboat that had arisen from the wreck on the mighty Mississip. This is also one instance where the higher, reedy vocals (I generally dislike) only add to the over all plaintive and soulful quality of the song, rather than a more usual gravelly rendering so common with a Delta Blues tune. It’s a masterful work of art that takes the original far beyond what was possible, or even imagined at the time. I would only hope the bluesmen of the early 30s would approve of phantasmagoric rendition.
Cyndi Brandenburg
Sara Bareilles, GoodbyeYellow Brick Road
Despite
how easy it would be to default to a cover of a Dylan song that's better than
the original (you know the one(s)), my first instinct is to choose something
performed by Ani DiFranco. She is one of my favorite artists, and she has done
some amazing covers--such as “When I’m Gone,” by protest singer Phil
Ochs. Check it out. Given my privileged liberal
upbringing, Phil Ochs’ work has a surprisingly comfortable familiarity that I
can’t quite justifiably place my finger on since he died when I was barely 10
years old.
But
the more I think about it, in the spirit of this week’s theme, the more I feel
compelled to choose an amazing cover of a really popular yet rarely
reinterpreted song. Plus, I doubt many of you have even heard of
Phil Ochs. And so Ani will have to wait another week . . .
Gary Beatrice
Willie Nelson, Marie
Steve
Earle famously said that Townes Van Zandt was the greatest songwriter ever and
Earle would stand on Bob Dylan's coffee table in his cowboy boots and scream
that. Of course the fact that he named his son Townes tells you something as
well.
Personally I'd take Dylan, but there is no denying Towne's songwriting brilliance.
The problem was that Van Zandt had severe mental health and addiction issues, which likely contributed to his notorious impatience with the recording process. A notorious wanderer, Townes had little interest in surrounding himself with a talented band or producer and even less interest in multiple takes of his performances. In his youth he had an interesting though limited voice, but as he aged hard living took that from him as well.
But he still had his songwriting right up until his death. And "Marie", one of the saddest songs I ever heard, about a down on their luck homeless couple and their unborn child, may be his very best song. But Townes' own version was so rough that I barely noticed it until the incomparable Willie Nelson brought his voice and personality to the tune giving it the performance it deserved.
Frankly I am surprised there aren't more TVZ covers. Most of the best known covers, including the entire Steve Earle "Townes" release, are of Van Zandt's best known songs, songs that he has at least some credible performances of. But there are some deep tracks like "Marie" that could make some careers.
Personally I'd take Dylan, but there is no denying Towne's songwriting brilliance.
The problem was that Van Zandt had severe mental health and addiction issues, which likely contributed to his notorious impatience with the recording process. A notorious wanderer, Townes had little interest in surrounding himself with a talented band or producer and even less interest in multiple takes of his performances. In his youth he had an interesting though limited voice, but as he aged hard living took that from him as well.
But he still had his songwriting right up until his death. And "Marie", one of the saddest songs I ever heard, about a down on their luck homeless couple and their unborn child, may be his very best song. But Townes' own version was so rough that I barely noticed it until the incomparable Willie Nelson brought his voice and personality to the tune giving it the performance it deserved.
Frankly I am surprised there aren't more TVZ covers. Most of the best known covers, including the entire Steve Earle "Townes" release, are of Van Zandt's best known songs, songs that he has at least some credible performances of. But there are some deep tracks like "Marie" that could make some careers.
Dave Wallace
The Beatles, Twist and Shout
So, a cover that is superior to the
original? Lots of good possibilities. The Dylan category alone has
two classics - All Along the Watchtower by Jimi Hendrix
and It's All Over Now, Baby Blue by Them (well, really Van
Morrison). The Prince category includes I Feel For You by
Chaka Khan and Nothing Compares to You by Sinead
O'Conner. But I wound up going with the Beatles classic cover of the
Isley Brothers' Twist and Shout (itself a re-write of their
classic Shout). Famously recorded at the end of a long
session, John Lennon shouts himself hoarse as the band rips through the
song. They took a fairly standard R&B number and created one of the
greatest rock and roll songs of all time. I couldn't find the original studio
version on-line, but the link is to a good live version.
Dave Kelley
"She asked, are you a Christian child? And I
said, Ma'am I am tonight."
"Walking in Memphis" Marc Cohn
Darrell Scott, Wayfaring Stranger
My choice as the cover that exceeds the prior versions of
the song is "Wayfaring Stranger" as done by one of the
great criminally unknown performers of our time, Darrell Scott from Eastern
Kentucky. I had never heard of him before going on a music cruise several
years ago. I saw him multiple times on the cruise, and he blew me away on
every occasion. Fantastic singer, writer, pianist, and guitar
player. He wrote "No One Leaves Harlan Alive" and "Long
Time Gone" which others have turned into hits. He is a featured
player in Steve Earle's all-star blue grass band and also played lead guitar in
Robert Plant's Band of Joy. This is a very old song covered by many
including Neil on his recent Americana album. No version I have heard
touches the one done by Scott on his "Live in New York City"
CD. He is accompanied by a drummer and an upright bass player.
"I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
I'm traveling through this world of woe
Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger
In that fair land to which I go
I'm going there to see my Father
I'm going there no more to roam
I'm only going over Jordan
I'm only going over home"
"I know dark clouds will gather 'round me
I know my way is rough and steep
Yet beauteous fields lie out before me
Where God's redeemed, their vigils keep
I am going there to see my mother
She said she'd meet me when I come"
"I'll soon be free of earthly trials
this form will rest beneath the sod
I'll drop the cross of self-denial
and enter in my home with God
I'm going there to meet my Savior
He said He'd meet me when I come
I'm just going over Jordan
I'm just going over home"
As someone raised in a deeply religious family, I believe
I was taught a very kind, loving and compassionate set of morals based on
faith. Because of that, I am horrified by the militant, judgmental,
ignorant and often out and out hateful brand of the faith that grabs so
much attention now. Not only do I love the performance of "Wayfaring
Stranger" that I selected, I am deeply touched by the message. My
faith wanders at times, but when I listen to this song, why Ma'am I'm a
Christian tonight.
Gary Scudder
Miles Davis, Concierto de Aranjuez
Now, I know that you were all expecting me to choose Neil Young's cover of Clementine from his Americana album, which would be a noble choice because it fulfills what I would consider a fundamental rule of a great cover: it's so good, so unique and knowing, that you think that it was written by the covering band; in this case, it's seems like Clementine was designed for Crazy Horse (thrash and Drive-By Truckers level warped - who knew that song was so dark?).
However, I'm going to pick Davis' cover of Concierto de Aranjuez from the seminal album Sketches of Spain. There has been so much written about Sketches of Spain that I don't think I could add anything even remotely insightful, so I will simply point out that it was recorded within a year of Kind of Blue. Davis, at the height of his protean genius, quickly and effortlessly moved from recording the definitive jazz album of all time to a completely different but equally innovative and brilliant album (although my students don't agree with my view that it marks the high point of western civilization; certainly my birth between the release of the two albums put a damper on things). Davis and Gil Evans (his close friend and collaborator) wanted to record a "Spanish record," and in the process created a fusion of jazz, classical and world music. This piece, a re-envisioning of the adagio section of Joaquin Rodrigo's Concierto de Aranjuez, opens up the album (and definitely give a listen to the original, also amazing). I can't even imagine what people thought when they played the album for the first time, especially coming hard on the heels of albums such as Kind of Blue, Porgy and Bess, and Birth of the Cool. Davis plays trumpet and flugelhorn. He felt that the melody was so strong that "the softer you play it the stronger it gets." Required.
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